Rocky Road
by Rainmaker221
Summary: Sometimes all you can do is wait, and see what happens. After Allen Marks made his pitch to the Railroad, all that was left to do was wait, he doesn't do well waiting, so he worked. Found jobs, found friends. The long and the short of it, there's no straight shot home. Part 3 of the Long lived life series
1. Chapter 1

"The fuck's the 'Combat Zone?'" Allen asked his companions.

"Raider hangout," Nick answered, "Best we keep moving."

Allen had a list in his Pip Boy, locations to scout, jobs to do, loose ends to tie up, and Allen and Co. (patent pending) were checking off that list one item at a time. Today's item was the so-called Combat Zone.

"No, he couldn't possibly do that." Piper said, "That would be leaving dangerous men at large to rape, pillage, and plunder." She did a purposefully bad impression of Allen as she spoke.

"Are you mocking or disagreeing?" Allen asked.

"Mocking," Piper answered. "Go for it," she encouraged.

"Watch my six," Allen ordered.

"He means watch his back, correct?" Curie asked.

"Yes Curie." Nick assured.

"Stay here, stay quiet, and don't fire a shot until absolutely necessary."

That was the order he gave; it was also the order they disregarded.

It had been perfect, a distracted crowd in a theater, Allen with the perfect vantage point, all lights pointing away from him, and a silenced 50 cal. But no, the second the raiders realized someone was shooting was the same second they started shooting themselves (not even at Allen, the dumb bastards). When his gang realized Raiders had started firing, they started shooting back, and since their weapons weren't silenced, they gave away his position. So, Allen had to take a different approach to keep his friends alive, an approach that involved a whole lot of yelling, and a high caliber revolver.

When all was said and done, Allen and Co. came out no worse for wear, better in fact, cause it seemed that the performers weren't overly fond of the their audience.

"I don't know if I should kiss you or have my little bird here feed you your own entrails" the ghoul who spoke first wasn't overly fond of Allen either, it appeared.

"Sorry, we thought you were in trouble." Piper said, apologizing for Allen, who seemed to be busy.

"Your technique is impressive, where did you get your training?" Allen asked the woman who was standing nearby the ghoul.

"Technique? You coming onto me or something?" The redheaded cage fighter fired back.

"No."

"Too bad, I could use a tumble after a good fight."

Allen blinked and turned back to the ghoul.

"Yeah, it seemed pretty rough in here. I thought I was saving your lives," he said, latching onto Piper's earlier apology.

The ghoul scowled. "I can see why you'd think that, but you just killed our meal ticket."

Beside him, the redhead proclaimed rather loudly, "To hell with 'em, I just need a breather and I'll be ready to go."

"A breather, yeah right, a chance to stick yourself with Psycho more like." The ghoul gave a great big sigh, "Ah fuck it, this might just be a blessing in disguise."

"How so?" Allen asked.

"Who's the leader of this merry little band of misfits?" the ghoul questioned, looking around at the group.

"Monsieur Marks seems to make most of the decisions," Curie said, while Piper and Nick settled for pointing at Allen.

"You said Cait's technique was impressive. Was that a pass or did you mean it?"

"She's a good fighter, and I'm impressed," Allen replied defensively, "That's all there is to it, why?"

"See, Tommy," Cait snapped at the ghoul, "somebody knows skill when they see it."

"It ain't ya' fighting skill I'm concerned with." Tom retorted, before turning back to Allen. "Here's my predicament, I've got no audience, no audience means no fight, no fight means Cait won't be bringing in caps."

"What're you getting at, Tommy." Cait demanded.

"If you're not bringing in caps, then I don't need ya." Tommy said coldly. Allen could hear how hard this was for Tommy, but the two of them had deduced the same thing, the Combat Zone was killing this girl, and the only way to get her to leave was to push her out the door.

Allen, however, wasn't sure where the ghoul was headed. "Again, what does this have to do with me?"

"Why don't you take over her contract?" Tommy offered, "She goes with you, watches your back, etcetera."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Cait asked, clearly outraged.

"If she doesn't want to come with, I'm not taking her." Allen said.

"Do you really want to stay here?" Tommy asked the woman, "No fights, no caps, no one but yours truly."

"Jesus, point taken." Cait exclaimed.

"So, how 'bout it?" Tommy pitched again.

"Cait," Allen said, ignoring Tommy, "Seeing how you're unemployed now, how'd you like to pal around with me?" Allen extended his hand.

"Sure, why not" Cait answered, shaking Allen's hand. "Just let me pack."

Allen and company had took some time to unwind while Cait packed.

"Look, this has been nine different kinds of fun," Nick said, "but I should probably get back to the agency."

"I'll come with," Piper proclaimed, "I need to check on Nat anyways." Piper and Nick gave Allen and Curie a quick handshake before leaving.

"Be careful you two, stay in trouble." Allen said, waving goodbye.

"Isn't the term 'stay out of trouble'?" Curie wondered aloud.

"I don't give orders I know will get disobeyed."

"Where they goin?" Allen and Curie turned to face Cait, who had snuck up behind them.

"They've got their own things going on." Allen explained. "Look, Cait, before we set out…"

"I know," Cait interrupted, "follow your lead, do what I'm told, don't talk back...I know how this works."

"Actually," Allen countered, "I was going to say that this isn't a one way street. I wanted to assure you that you're not some slave."

"Well then," Cait said with assertive nod, "we're off to a good start. Just keep your eyes on the road and off my ass."

"No problems there." Allen assured.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He grit his teeth. This was going to be a long month.


	2. Science Fiction (double feature)

Someday somebody was going to write a biography about Allen Marks, and when that day came he was going to read that biography, just so he could find out how he kept getting into these messes. It had been four days since he started palling around with Cait and in that time, he'd been led into two traps, made 600 caps (his take was 300) and somehow became an antique baseball collector.

Also, he ambushed a chem deal with a bartender and a washout.

"Well, since it's just the two of us, 50-50 sound good to you?" Paul Pembroke, originator of this whole situation, asked after Cooke was safely out of earshot.

Truthfully, it didn't. There were five people dead (including the son of one of the most powerful men in Diamond city), four killed by Allen, one killed by Cooke. So really, Allen thought he deserved a bigger share.

"Sounds good to me," Allen offered regardless, "I'll take the caps, you take the Chems?" Again Allen wanted those chems - not for personal use mind you (well, maybe a few packs of Mentats), but so he could boil them down to their base chemicals and make explosives.

"Thanks," Paul said, before gathering the chems and leaving.

"You should have asked for more," Cait critiqued as Allen counted up the caps.

"That would have violated the terms of the arrangement!" Curie admonished.

"We made out well enough," Allen said, "besides, add the salvage from the guns, ammo, and Marowski's chem lab, and we'll make out like bandits."

"Fair enough," Cait replied with a shrug.

"Curie, are you sure you don't want a cut?" Allen asked.

"No thank you, monsieur, I have no need for caps."

"Well then, Cait, 50-50 as per the usual!" Allen offered.

"Set me up." Allen handed over her share, pocketed his, and stood up.

"Where are we off to now?" Curie asked.

"We should head to Marowski's lab," Cait suggested. Allen shook his head.

"By the time we make it there, Marowski will have heard and stepped up security. Let's let things cool off for a little while."

"So, where are we going?" Cait demanded.

"I'm thinking Goodneighbor. Time to refuel and restock."

"Sounds good to me."

Allen was offered a job in Goodneighbor. Like all Goodneighbor jobs, it was a little sketchy, but something made him accept. Something also made him a little nervous, and when Allen got nervous he sent people away.

"Curie, why don't you go to the Memory Den? Tell Dr. Amari I sent you, she could use an assistant." Allen phrased it like a suggestion but it really wasn't.

"Are you sure, monsieur? You might require my services." Curie argued.

"My might is outweighed by Dr. Amari's probably. Besides, she's a physician, you'll learn more from her than from me," Allen persuaded.

"Of course, monsieur, should you ever require my services…."

"I know where to find you." Allen assured the robot.

As Curie rattled away, Cait scowled and asked, "Is now when you tell me to fuck off?"

"Nope, now is when the two of us go to Diamond City," Allen corrected.

"Why?"

"I was just offered a job that takes me into the Cabot house and I'm not the only one in the Commonwealth curious about what's inside."

"So, Piper, how's the newspaper?" Allen asked, doing a very bad job of seeming casual.

"Good, the articles about our exploits are doing pretty well," Piper answered.

"Just making sure but..."

Piper cut him off with an easy assurance. "Always a fake name, always a different one, your is identity safe."

"Thank you." Allen supported freedom of the press. He also supported freedom from the press. If a private citizen wanted privacy about a private matter (his Shroud exploits, Virgil, or Vault 81 to name a few) they deserved it. He couldn't keep his Minuteman shenanigans quiet though.

"So, why are you here?" Piper asked, reaching into her fridge. "Nuka Cola?"

"I've got a job, and no thank you."

"I doubt you need my help." Piper said, twisting the cap off her Cola.

"Fair enough, but it's going to make a good story, and I figured you'd be interested."

"What's the job?"

"Don't know the details, but I'm meeting my employers in the Cabot house." Piper spat up some her Cola at that. Allen grinned. "Knew that would interest you."

"Aw, Blue, and it's not even my birthday," the reporter cooed.

"When is your birthday?" Allen asked with a tilt of his head.

"When's yours?" Piper countered.

"April 1st. Now, you in or not?"

"I'm in. Anyone else in your little entourage coming along?" Piper asked.

"Cait's waiting at the bar. Wanna invite Nick?"

"Nick's on a case, something about a grasshopper. Where's Curie?"

"With Dr. Amari. Meet you at the dugout?"

Piper nodded and chugged the rest of her cola. "Sure, just let me pack my things and say goodbye to Nat."

The Cabot house was not a very reassuring place to be.

"This place is giving me the creeps." Piper said as the trio took their seats in the parlor, "Some of this stuff looks older than you, Blue, but it still looks brand new."

"That's true," Allen granted. He continued, failing to conceal his smirk, "But there's a job to do, and I plan on seeing it through."

"This rhyming thing is goin' to be a habit with you two?" Cait cut in with a long-suffering sigh.

"Not a clue." Allen was grinning wider that he really needed to, but that grin fell the moment they saw their host.

"Hello, hello, welcome to Cabot house. I'm Jack Cabot." Jack cabot looked, sounded, and acted young. But there was no way he could be young, because Allen remembered this exact man detail for detail from two hundred years ago. He was one the doctors who helped give him a neural implant (long story).

"Is there anything I can get you?" Jack offered, "Whiskey, Scotch? Perhaps something less strong?"

"Have any vodka?" Allen asked, standing up to shake Jacks hand.

"Of course," Jack said, seemingly delighted at the request. "Edward," Jack clapped twice to the devoted ghoul standing just a few feet away. Edward was soon back with a bottle of vodka and some glasses.

"Now please sit down, tell me your names." Jack requested.

"I'm Allen Marks."

"Cait."

"Piper Wright, Publick Occurrences."

"Piper Wright, you say?" Jack commented, "The reporter?"

"In the flesh."

"Big fan," Jack gushed, "I especially loved your 'Synthetic truth' article."

"Well, thank you for supporting the paper," Piper said modestly.

"Sorry," Cait interrupted, "What's this about a job?"

"We'll get to that, consider this an interview." Jack said, sipping from his glass, "I have but one question, do you believe there is other intelligent life in this universe?"

"I haven't had nearly enough to drink to believe that hooey," Cait barked before downing her glass in a mouthful.

"Do you mean UFO's? Little green men in shiny outfits?" Piper asked.

"No no, all that is nonsense. I'm talking about the hidden history of the planet, ancient powers that allowed humans to evolve." Cabot explained.

"You buyin' this bullshit?" Cait asked Allen, none too quietly. Allen waved down his companions, and resumed control of the conversation.

"Mr. Cabot, I apologise for my friends' manners." Allen said with a glare. "But I assure you, whatever work you have for us will be completed in a timely manner."

"Of course, Mr. Allen, I appreciate the gesture. But I am curious, what do you think?"

"Aliens are a bit above my paygrade. If i see 'em, I'll believe in e'm, until then..." Allen just shrugged.

"Not a bad attitude to have, Mr. Allen." Jack said standing up, "Edward will explain the details of the job with you."

"Of course," Cait complained, "this job just had to take us to the ass end of the Commonwealth,"

Piper agreed with Cait, Parsons Insane Asylum wasn't just out of the way, it was on a whole different track. Allen was pensive, but it was different this time. Usually when Allen got quiet, Piper got worried, but this time he didn't seem distressed, it was more like he was solving a puzzle and was stuck.

"That man," Allen suddenly declared, "is over two hundred years old."

"Bullshit." Cait said, "Nobody's two hundred years old."

"I'm a tad older than that, but I was in Cryostasis for that time," Allen mused. "But how did he do it?"

"Are you sure it's him?" Piper asked.

"I'm positive."

"How do you know him?"

"The Cabot's were a prominent family in the pre-bombs, especially in the scientific community, they did some contracting work for the military. Jack's specialty was neuroscience; he lead a medical team that gave me an implant." Allen said, tapping at a part of his skull. "But believe it or not, that's not the important part."

"What is the important part?" Piper asked. But Allen went quiet, staring at the same distant spot on the horizon.

"Allen, you holdin' out on us?" Cait demanded.

"The important part right now is getting some rest, it's starting to get dark."

"Blue!" Piper snapped.

"The Cabot's were a big family, I'm just wondering how many of them are still alive," Allen defended. Piper nodded, accepting Allen's reasoning.

"Now," Allen ordered, "Let's set up camp. I'll cook."

Allen took first watch that night. About halfway through, he popped a mentat.

"If you're usin', you might as well share." Cait said from behind him.

"It ain't for the high," Allen justified, "I need to think, need a clear head."

"Sure, o' course."Cait replied patronizingly. "That's why you waited until we were sleepin' to take it." Allen glanced at Piper's sleeping form before sighing.

"I didn't want anyone to worry."

"What's between you and the reporter?" Cait asked.

"It's a long story." Allen said,

"I've got time."

Allen scratched the back of his neck, and told his tale. The Cliff Notes version, how he was pre-war, Nora, Shaun, how he met Piper, and how he almost got himself killed.

"Piper's heart is in the right place," Allen defended, "But she worries about people, it's kinda her thing, and I didn't exactly give the best first impression."

"So you're not fuckin'?" Cait clarified.

"No." Allen said, exasperatedly. "Now go back to bed, I need to think."

"It's time for my watch." Cait objected.

"I'll take your watch for you. Now get."

As it turned out, through no fault of Allen's, the reclamation of the delivery from Parson's was a bust. To redeem himself, Allen was assigned to find Emogene Cabot and the investigation led them to an amphitheater in the outskirts of Boston city limits...where a cult was apparently hiding out.

"Emogene is indisposed right now. She's not taking any visitors," an especially sleezy cult member named Thomas said, doing a very bad job of seeming innocent.

"I just need to make sure she's okay." Allen assured the man, doing a much more admirable job of pretending like he wasn't about to shoot someone (he hated cults).

"You have my word, she's okay. Not that it's any of your business, but we're having a bit of a spat and she just needs some time to calm down," Thomas explained.

"I'm a friend of the family, maybe I can help." Allen offered.

Beside him, Piper begged, "C'mon, Brother Thomas, have a heart."

"I said she's not seeing anyone, you'll just have to wait."

"Look, Thomas," Allen said stepping closer to the man, "I was hired to find her and make sure she's safe, right now you are preventing me from doing both, which means she's probably not safe with you, which also means I'll have to kill you. Now, a few words with her to make sure she's alright and I'll be out of your hair. Or you can continue to be an obstacle and loose the head your hair grows on."

Allen and crew were unlocking the door to Emogene's room moments later. Both Piper and Cait were now staring at Allen, who had gotten suspiciously quiet and panicked.

"Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Marks. I never thought I'd see you again." Emogene said, before taking a drag from a cigarette.

"Two hundred years tends to give that impression." Allen drawled back, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"So does not saying anything the next morning," she said, sauntering closer to Allen, "Don't worry, I don't hold any grudges. It was a fun night."

Allen practically squeaked, "Jack's waiting for you."

"Tell him I'll be right over. I'm making a pit stop in Goodneighbor if you'd care to join me." Emogene offered before walking out the door.

Allen turned to Piper and Cait who were staring at him with two of the most shocked expressions he'd ever seen.

"Look, Amsterdamn 2071 was a very weird time for me."

Piper literally rolled on the floor laughing.

Parsons Insane Asylum was under siege.

"We'll take separate routes," Allen ordered to Jack, "See if we can't cut off any new forces. My crew and I will show up first, clear out the surrounding area." Jack, likewise, was leaving for Parson's with his own crew of mercs.

"Good idea, we'll meet you there." Jack agreed.

Shortly thereafter, Allen was running, with Piper and Cait trying their best to keep up.

"Blue, wait up!" Piper called.

"Can't afford to." Allen argued from over his shoulder.

"Allen, what's got you so spooked?" Cait demanded.

"Lorenzo!" Allen shouted as if that answered everything.

"Blue, you are not doing this again."

"Fine but I am not stopping!" Allen declared, finally slowing down.

"What's got you so spooked?" Cait asked again.

"Back before the bombs, America was essentially a military state. The general was the president, the majors and lieutenants the congressmen - not say there weren't actual presidents and congressmen. Figureheads. But it was a power vacuum, different families vying for power. The Cabots controlled the science divisions of government. Every technological advance was thanks to them."

"Where does Lorenzo come into play?" Piper asked.

"Lorenzo was the Cabot family patriarch, a genius by all standards, but he went mad. Killing off members of the other families at first. Eventually he just started killing random people. Finally, there was so much evidence that even the Cabot family influence couldn't save him from the justice system. But they managed to plead insanity."

Allen was frantic, he remembered the reports, he'd seen the pictures; Lorenzo had become a psychopath of the highest degree.

"So what are we going to do?" Piper asked.

"If he gets loose, he dies, that's all there is to it," Cait voted.

"I'm inclined to agree." Allen said.

"Blue, there has to be another way." Piper begged.

"Everything else was tried," Allen argued. "You're new to this story, Piper, it's a pre-bombs matter, and the only way to stop Lorenzo is to kill him."

"Blue -"

"Save your breath," Allen snapped, "It'll slow you down."

Lorenzo was dead.

All throughout the asylum Agent Marks never hesitated. Truthfully no one else got a kill in, not Jack, Piper, or even Cait killed a single Raider. And when they made it into the basement and realised there was no chance of keeping Lorenzo contained, Allen didn't hesitate in flipping the switches to flood Lorenzo's room with radiation. Cait was impressed; Lorenzo was a monster, he needed to die, so Allen killed him.

Piper didn't know what to think. As a rule, she agreed with Nick in that "killing always takes it's toll on the killer," but seeing Allen kill without regret and without remorse or hesitation scared her.

It wasn't until later that she understood.

During dinner that night, without prompting, Allen said, "Lorenzo outed a friend of mine."

"What's that mean?" Cait asked.

"When a spy is in the field, their best defense is secrecy. All the skill in the world doesn't mean a thing when you are surrounded by enemy forces. If they know who you really are, then you die." Allen said solemnly.

"And he told someone about a friend of yours?" Piper asked. Allen nodded.

"His name was Reese, he was the best and bravest of us all. Reese refused to kill anyone."

"Doesn't that make work for the CIA difficult?" Piper asked.

"He made it work," Allen said proudly. "Every mission he ever went on was a resounding success - thousands of American soldiers owed him their lives, tens of thousands American civilians. And Lorenzo just sold him out. He didn't need the money, the Cabot's were richer than god." Allen scowled.

"The Pre-War sounds like a mess." Cait commented.

"It was."

"Why were you fightin' so hard to preserve it, then? Sounds like the world needed a swift kick." Cait argued.

"I don't know anymore, I used to. 'Used to' applies to a lot of things now." Allen mused, staring at the embers of the cooking fire. "Get some rest," he ordered suddenly. "Still got some work to do. Commitments to fulfill and whatnot. I'll take the first watch."

Piper and Cait went to sleep, Allen stayed up, and halfway through his watch, he popped a Mentat.

He just needed to think.


	3. Ain't No Rest (for the wicked)

Nick was in trouble.

As of yesterday, there had been eight days until Allen would be going to check back in with the Railroad and nothing else remained on Allen's list of loose ends. Apparently, Allen had resolved to spend some time in Sanctuary hills, sparing with Cait, teaching Piper how to shoot straight, and tinkering with his guns. The usual vacation things.

But then Nick had arrived.

* * *

When Nick got to Sanctuary Hills, Allen was, technically, sparring with Cait. It was more like a lesson, as Allen was deflecting Cait's strikes with ease and giving tips along the way. Piper was next in line, while Nick was waiting for a chance to talk with Allen.

"You rely too much on your strength." Allen said, redirecting a haymaker.

"Worked so far," Cait argued, getting rather winded.

"It works on raiders and thugs." Allen explained getting in close and slapping Cait (he hadn't used a closed fist yet). "You need to be smart, don't block, redirect. Don't push through, go around."

"Don't see the point." Cait gasped. Allen redirected another punch, shifted a few steps and struck Cait in the side; it was a powerful enough strike that Cait was knocked flat.

"The point," Allen said, helping Cait up, "Is that if you can hit a vulnerable point with all your strength, then the fight's over no arguing."

"Too foofy for my tastes," said Cait scornfully, drinking from her bottle of water.

"My foofiness knocked you on your ass, a sentence I've never said before."

"Really?" Piper asked from the sidelines "Not even in Amsterdam 2071?"

"What happened in Amsterdam 2071?" Nick asked, not currently in on the budding inside joke.

"A lot." Allen responded with a blush.

"So far it's safe to assume that there was kidnapping that went wrong, he made contact with a friendly organization, and he hooked up Emogene Cabot." Piper recited.

"So far?" Nick said, requesting clarification. "I'm assuming there's more to this story."

"Is there a reason you're here, Nick?" Allen asked, trying to change the subject.

"Actually, yes," Nick answered, reaching into his coat and pulling out a file. "I have a case and could use a little help."

"Got it, just let me wash up."

* * *

Nick was in Allen's dining room, he had just explained to Piper that this case was a bit personal and he wanted to tackle it alone, or alone with Allen.

Piper probably guessed that Nick was reopening his Eddie Winter file, but she complied, and left.

"So, what's this case?" Allen asked, walking into his house, and grabbing the file as Nick handed it to him

"Eddie Winter," Nick answered, watching Allen's head snap up. "Heard of him?"

"Mob boss, worst of the worst," Allen recalled, "I knew the head of the taskforce formed to take him down. Pleasant enough guy, bit of an idealist"

"That saves a lot of time."

"Speaking of time, what kind of case are you on that involves Winter?"

"There's this theory that Eddie started a radiation experiment to help extend his life, so he could live forever even if the bombs fell." Nick explained.

"A ghoul?" Allen clarified.

"Maybe."

"So he's still alive?"

"Maybe."

"What do we know?" Allen demanded, sick of 'maybes'.

"Eddie Winter set up shop in a vault underneath a subway shop, could only be opened from the outside, and only with a particular code."

"Any other way in?" Allen asked, flipping through the files.

"None. Lucky for us, Winter's arrogance knew no bounds. He sent out a bunch of holotape messages to his criminal associates, all with incriminating evidence but more importantly with a number. Ten holotapes total." Nick explained, taking out the files he used as a reference

"So, you find these tapes, you find the code, and find out whether Winter is still kicking. Any leads on where these tapes are?"

"They were kept separate so that if Eddie tried to get them back, there'd be only so much he could do."

"So then I'm betting there's one at every damn law-related building in the Commonwealth." Allen said, pulling up the map on his pipboy.

"Look, Allen, I know I'm asking for a lot here," Nick started his apology, "So we don't have to do this right away, or even all at once. Eddie is either a ghoul or corpse, either way he's not going anywhere." Nick meant what he said, but a part of him was hoping they'd leave tomorrow and be done soon.

"This little adventure of ours will take us all over the Commonwealth," Allen mused, "Boston, outskirts of the glowing sea, hell even Quincy…if we're going to do this, we need to do it right."

"How's that?"

"Arm up, walk soft, might even need a couple of stealth boys." Allen listed.

"I've got no issues taking this slow." Nick said, doing his best to mean it.

"Good, we move out tomorrow morning. We'll make stops along the way. I've got a cache of stealth boys at Oberland, might make Quincy easier."

Allen and Nick parted for the night. When Nick had gone, Allen updated Piper on his plans and Piper, for one, was thrilled that Allen wouldn't be running off into the night halfcocked.

* * *

The next morning it was discovered (via a note that read "gone hunting") that Allen ran off into the night halfcocked. Which brings us to why Nick was in trouble.

"Well what did you think was going to happen?" Piper shouted, throwing the note in Nick's face.

"I told him there wasn't a deadline, I offered to help." Nick defended himself, not giving an inch.

"You handed him the worst criminal in his age on a silver platter, and you thought he'd take it easy?" Piper was pissed, obviously.

"That's what he said he'd do."

"And you believed him?"

"That's a little harsh." Nick said; he had come to trust Allen recently. "Weren't you two inseparable when you first met?"

"That was then." Piper admitted sheepishly.

"What's changed?" Nick said, taking the offensive. "Because, the way I see it, he's done nothing that deserves our skepticism, he's built the Minutemen from nothing, he's forgoing the Brotherhood for the Railroad, and he's shown nothing but good judgement."

"In everything except his personal safety," Piper explained, "because I remember him breaking his own hand to get out of handcuffs. I remember him running off to confront Kellogg, alone, and coming back barely alive. He has no regard for his own safety."

"That's ironic coming from you." Nick accused, "Because I was there when you got poisoned, the first time. I was there when a crooked guard started taking shots at you, and I was stuck watching when you were almost executed by the Cult of Atom."

"That's different," Piper muttered, losing steam.

"How?" Nick demanded. Piper didn't have a response yet, so he went on. "Because he's always come back alive. How is that any different from what you or I do?"

"Because he's trying to get himself killed." Piper had finally calmed down, now sounding only tired. "Nick, he's not doing this because it's right."

"He's certainly not doing it for the caps."

"That would be better. Nick, he's doing this because he doesn't know anything else. He fights because he can, he fights for causes we agree with by coincidence - if someone like him was on the side of the Brotherhood, what would your opinion of him be? You have too much faith in him."

"You don't have enough. Remember what you said to me 'He's a pre-war relic, his wife has been killed and his son stolen. There's bound to be a few things that don't click.' He just needs time."

"It's been months!" Piper exclaimed.

"Losing the love of your life isn't something you just get over," Nick said, seeming lost in memory "Losing your son isn't a temporary thing. As long as there's a loose string, he'll be pulling and pulling." Nick had to fight to not lose himself in fragments of memory, memories of Jennifer Lands, memories he had no right to have, but had anyway.

"You're right, Nicky," Piper sighed, "But I'm still pissed that Blue ran off on his own."

"Beat him up when he gets back," Nick said, deflecting blame, "I'll help."

"Think we'll be enough?" Piper joked.

"Probably not." Nick replied.

"Best stick to yelling then, he responds well to that."

* * *

There was no yelling, because when Allen returned to Sanctuary Hills, thirty-six hours later, there was an intervention waiting for him. It was meant to address how Allen needed to take his friends more seriously, trust them, fight side by side with them. But with how little time it took Allen to come back, it turned into another conversation entirely.

"Blue, what are you using?" Piper demanded. Allen hadn't been back for long, just long enough to hand Nick the tapes, and for Piper to start asking questions.

"Mentats, one dose every eight hours." Allen answered honestly. "Well within U.S army regulations."

He almost lied. But he knew better, Piper would find out, and the lie would be worse than the crime.

"Give them to me." Piper demanded.

"What?" Allen exclaimed. "Why?"

"We've been over this, this is a bad habit to form and I'm not letting you go down that road." Piper said, hand still held out expectantly.

"It's not a habit, Piper, it's a tactic." Allen justified.

Piper argued, "One every eight hours for a day and half without sleep sounds like a habit."

"Look, Allen," Nick piped up, "we're not trying to bust your chops or anything like that."

Nearby, Preston cleared his throat before speaking. "The fact of the matter is that these little excursions you go on are dangerous," he explained, "and nobody's invincible."

"Don't be nice, Preston," Piper scolded, "Call them what they are, benders"

"You think I'm some kind of addict?" Allen asked, insulted.

"Yes, Allen," Piper scathed, "I think you're an addict. Maybe not to chems, but you are an addict, looking for the next fix, the next job. All of that without any regard for your personal safety."

"That sounds like the opposite of a problem." Allen fought.

"You're worth more to us alive, General." Preston said.

"Bullshit," Allen growled, as though it explained everything, "Bullshit."

"How?" Nick asked. "How are you better off doing all this charging off halfcocked, popping Mentats like gum?"

Allen turned his back on his friends, concealing what little parts of him weren't hidden by his attire and bandana.

"Who do you think I was?" It was a rhetorical question. "Back before the cryosleep, before the bombs?"

"I don't…" Piper started before being interrupted.

"Because this is what I did, I was a spy." Allen ranted, "I risked my life, I went on ops, and sometimes I popped Mentats. In a different world, with different rules, maybe I could have afforded to change. But here, now, I don't have that luxury." Allen finally turned around, "Now here's the thing - whoever I am now, the details aren't relevant. I help, I save lives, maybe I'll die in the process but isn't that the point?"

"The point is helping people." Piper retorted.

"Really? Because I met Preston," Allen pointed to the Minuteman, "when he was making a last stand." Allen pointed again, "Nick was a hostage probably not going to live out the week. And, you, Piper," Allen let his hand fall to the ground, "'Shot at, poisoned, nearly executed by the Cult of Atom.'" He quoted all the things he'd heard before.

"Just because I do things alone and differently doesn't mean it's wrong. If you have a problem with it, then walk away." It was an ultimatum that Allen never wanted to give, but he was sick of being second guessed.

Piper walked up to Allen and promptly slapped him.

"I'm going home. If you find a story worth sharing, let me know." Piper said solemnly before turning and walking away.

Allen looked to Preston, who just stood up straighter, and saluted.

"I'll follow you into hell, General, this doesn't' change that."

Nick walked up to Allen and shook his hand. "I was wrong about you once, I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Thank you." Allen said, ignoring the sting of his cheek. "Ready to take Winter down?"

"You sure?" Nick asked, surprised that Allen was willing to get right back to work.

"There's still a job to do."

* * *

Allen and Nick were gone for three days. On the second day, Cait nearly died of an overdose. It was luck that saved her, luck that Preston was a mother hen and made sure everyone was up by a certain time, luck that a Minutemen patrol with a medic was nearby, luck that the medic knew that Addictol and Psycho in equal measures was a good way to keep a person alive through a Psycho overdose. If you browse a history book, you might realize that "luck of the Irish" was mostly bullshit, but Cait was damn lucky to be alive, luckier still that by the time she woke up Allen was back.

* * *

Cait woke up on a bed in the "hospital room," as it was affectionately called. Allen was sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair near the door.

"Hey," Cait groaned out.

"Hey" Allen said, standing up, "Need some water?"

"Could go for some whiskey." Cait said, sitting up.

"We're out of whiskey." Allen pulled a cooler open and brought out a bottle of water, "Preston drank all of it. You gave him a good scare."

"Not you?" Cait asked, accepting the water and drinking slowly.

"I know you too well, you're not gonna die of an overdose."

"How am I gonna die?" Cait asked between sips.

"In a blaze of glory with the whole world watching."

The duo were silent for some time, an hour or two passed but Allen didn't go anywhere. He just leaned against a wall and said nothing. Finally, Cait spoke up.

"I need your help."

"Anything." Allen declared.

"Thanks, I just really need someone to have my back here." Cait wasn't one for shows of emotion, this was probably the best she could do. "This was a long time comin', with all the Psycho I shoot."

"It never seemed like you did that much." Allen commented. He knew about Cait's habit; he had assumed it was like his own Mentat deal, as he had only ever seen her shoot up in a "Do or Die" scenario.

"I've hidden it well, I didn't want to lose a friend 'cause I was some kinda junky." Cait was forlorn.

"I don't walk away from people, Cait." Allen said. "Admittedly, I don't always chase after them, but I don't walk away."

"Damn it," Cait whispered. "I need to get this shite out of me" She said louder.

"I'm guessing this isn't as simple as an Addictol."

"The Psycho's too ingrained, the withdrawal might just kill me, even with Addictol."

"Any other suggestions?"

"There's supposedly a vault somewhere, Vault 95," Cait explained, "I heard that they had someway t' help people get clean in there."

"I'm familiar with the technology." Allen said, standing up. "I even know the location."

"How?"

"Magic." Allen evaded. "But are you sure you can make the trip?"

"This isn't my first OD" Cait said, throwing the covers off and standing up. "After a few, you know how to shrug them off."

"In couple of days you'll never have another." Allen promised, handing Cait her shotgun.

"Feels damn good to hear you say that."

* * *

The trek to Vault 95 and its subsequent clean room was not easy. Gunners were making camp in the Vault. Usually Allen and Cait had fun taking on Gunners, it was good loot and just enough of a challenge to get a good workout in, but today the mood was somber and no one was salvaging. Eventually, they made it to the clean room.

"So, this is it…" Cait said, somewhere between a statement and question.

"This is it." Allen confirmed. He was staring at the chair in front of them, surrounded by medical arms and equipment.

"You said you were familiar with the tech? What's goin' to happen to me?" Cait asked.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"I have to know." Cait replied sourly.

"Well first, you'll sit in the chair." Allen said, motioning for Cait to do just that. She did.

"Once in the chair, you'll latch yourself in."

Cait nodded and clamped her feet and left hand, Allen did the same to the left. "When I initiate the purge, the syringes near your neck will do two things. One will pump small doses of liquid Addictol into your bloodstream. The other will take blood out, cleanse it, and put it back in."

"How long will it take?" Cait asked, closing her eyes.

"Couple of hours, assuming the chair works perfectly."

"Will it hurt?"

"Like a bastard, but don't worry. I'll be here." Allen assured. Cait nodded once, twice, and then a third time.

"Start it," she ordered. A few seconds after Allen flipped the switch, Cait screamed.

The toxin purge took two hours, eighteen minutes, and forty-two seconds. And for two hours, eighteen minutes, and forty-two seconds Allen sat by her side. Sometimes he held her hand, sometimes he told stories, most untrue, but Cait knew that. It was a long two hours, eighteen minutes, and forty-two seconds, but it was worth it. Especially when Cait stood up with a clearer head than she'd had in quite some time and drawled, "Well, that was easy."

* * *

The trek back to Sanctuary Hills took some time, but now it was because they were in no hurry. The duo walked and talked. Cait told Allen about everything, her parents, her time as a slave, everything that led to her being a "tough Irish lass with a drug problem."

Allen talked, too, when Cait started to close up the way she tended to do, and he told stories (true ones, this time) about when he was young, when he was still Nathan Wake. He told her how when he was in high school, he got really drunk one night and woke up on the roof of his house, how his dad owned a restaurant, and about the idiots who walked through the door. Eventually night fell and they stopped to rest. Cait went straight to sleep. Allen stayed up, staring pensively into the campfire he had started. Halfway through the night (he was not going to wake Cait up) he pulled out his package of Mentats and threw them into the fire.

* * *

It was time for Allen to check in with the Railroad. Cait stayed at Sanctuary (her choice, not Allen's); she needed some time alone. Nick, however, went with him. Before Allen went to the Old North Church, he had a stop to make in Diamond City, more specifically Publick Occurrences.

"Nick!" Piper greeted fondly, not seeing Allen, mostly since he was waiting outside. "What are you doing here?"

"With Eddie Winter wrapped up in a bow, I thought I'd take care of some other cases." Nick explained. "Just droppin' by to say hello." Nick started to turn, before looking back around. "Oh, and to apologize."

"For what?" Piper asked, suspiciously.

"This." Nick said, before opening the door, letting Allen in, quickly leaving, and slamming it shut.

"Got a story?" Piper asked, suddenly very cold.

"No." Allen said, holding his hands up.

"Get out."

"Two minutes?" Allen begged.

"This is low even for you, Allen." Piper scolded.

"It was Nick's idea."

"No, it wasn't"

"Yes it was." They heard from outside.

"Two minutes." Allen requested again.

"Fine, two minutes. Make it good." Piper said, sitting down and staring at a clock.

"I quit the Mentats." Allen started, "I know that that wasn't the entire problem but I thought you should know."

"Why?" Piper demanded.

"Why did I quit? Because I saw the end of this slippery slope you've been talking about."

"No, why should I know?" Piper clarified.

"Because it matters to me." Allen said.

"Why?" Piper asked again.

"Because for some reason, I find myself caring about your opinion of me." Allen explained, looking confused at his own answer.

"I'm guessing that's new for you." Piper said.

"Not new, just uncommon." Allen said. "I can count on one hand with two fingers cut off the people whose opinion I care about like that."

"Mind if I ask who?"

Allen wasn't going there. He redirected, "We're getting off track."

"So what now? Do you want to fall back in line, be your loyal soldier?" Piper demanded, standing up, "What did you want out of me?"

"Piper," Allen more or less begged, "tomorrow I'm going to Old North Church to check in with the Railroad, see if they'll have me."

"So?"

"So, it'll be dangerous, and I'm going to need some help." Allen said, "And there's very few people I'd rather have at my back than you."

Allen held out his hand to shake.

"Fine, but only if you tell me one of those people." Piper bargained.

"Reese," Allen answered with a grin.

"Dead people don't count." Piper admonished, almost playfully.

"You never clarified!" Allen defended.

"That's not fair, Blue."

"Fares are for tourists."


	4. Swing life away

In the week between Allen meeting Nora and Allen being redeployed, he went on three dates with Nora.

The first was to a five star restaurant called Menton, where the highlights of the evening consisted of Allen staring at the menu trying desperately not to say some variation of "the fuck is this?" in regards to every menu item, Nora telling Allen (much his dismay) that he failed miserably at not saying anything, and Nora spending the rest of the evening educating Allen's palate. Allen's favorite part of that evening had been the walk home.

"You were miserable, weren't you?" Nora asked, sheepishly.

The two had been walking through the streets of Boston for an hour, just kind of chatting. Allen was sauntering, sort of circling around Nora taking great big strides. Nora seemed to be taking her time with her walk, no doubt enjoying seeing Allen carefree, as opposed to his earlier discomfort.

"No, no," Allen assured her. "The food wasn't up to my plebian standards, but the company was high class," he said with a dramatic smirk.

"Anyone ever tell you you're an amusingly bad flirt?" asked Nora between laughs.

"At least I'm amusing." Allen said triumphantly.

"That you are," Nora sighed, "Alright, serious time."

Allen slowed down to walk side by side with Nora.

"I'm not getting the second date, am I?" He decided to resign himself to the cold, hard truth. "I get it. I mean -"

"Allen-"

"High class and low brow tend not to mix well…"

"Allen," Nora waved a little, but Allen's eyes were downcast.

"Look, I get it no hard feelings and all…"

Without out much warning, Nora ordered loudly, "Eyes front, Soldier Boy!".

Instinctually, Allen snapped a reply, "Yes ma'am!".

"What I was going to say," Nora explained, "Is that I'm not looking for someone to impress me. I've enjoyed just talking. I want to get to know the real Allen, not the Russian diplomat or whoever you think I'll like."

"I never said I was a Russian diplomat." Allen protested.

"So, what do you want to do tomorrow?" Nora asked, staying on point. Allen gave it some consideration, physically stopping under the strain of his thought process.

"There's this nice little pub I tend to frequent." Allen suddenly said.

"Sounds like fun."

The were three people to know both Nathan Wake and Allen Marks: Lynch, the man who recruited Allen, Conner Martin, a former ambassador to Russia, and the last being a former CIA agent turned pub owner named Derek Moore.

Nora knew the second she walked into Captain Kelly's Kitchen, arm in arm with her new beau, that this would be an entirely different evening. Allen had a grin, almost wider than his face, and greeted the owner by name.

"Uncle Derek," he called, breaking away from Nora to give the 5ft 3in man a hug, "How's the family?"

"On holiday," The little man answered in a thick Irish brogue, "They're in london."

"Fun." Allen commented, returning to Nora's side.

"So, who's this?" Derek asked, motioning to Nora, "I told ye, boy, I don' need anymore employees."

"Uncle Derek, this is…"

"Nora Taylor," the woman beside him interrupted, "It's nice to finally meet you, Allen talks about you all the time."

No, he didn't, and Derek knew it.

"Two things, Miss," Derek started.

"What's that?"

"Never bullshit an Irishman," Derek reached to shake Nora's hand, "An' you are the loveliest little redhead I've seen outside o' Ireland."

"That's enough of that, sir, I'm here with someone." Nora joked with an easy laugh.

"Who? Can't be the boy here, he's much too much of an eejit for a woman of your caliber." Derek said, watching the blush on Allen cheek's grow.

"I'll say, he brought me here after all." Nora replied, going for the low blow.

"Can we stop having fun at my expense?" Allen pleaded, jokingly.

"I'm yer uncle boy, it's me job. Now, go sit down, I'll see if we don't have some candles in the back."

Nora and Allen found a place to sit, Derek was a few moments behind them with a dollar store candle.

"So…" Nora prodded.

"So what?" Allen pleaded ignorance.

"There's clearly a story here." Nora said, with a half laugh.

"Well," Allen said, opening his menu. "Derek's not really my uncle. But I've been coming here with my family since I was kid so he might as well be."

"Where is your family?" Nora asked, "Are you close?"

"It's...complicated." Allen answered, trying to dodge the question.

"It'd have to be, what with you being CIA." Nora commented slyly, forcing Allen to do a double take.

"How'd you know?"

"You were at the party with Marion. Carlson's mentioned him a few times. It wasn't a hard deduction to make." Nora said casually.

"Look, I would have told you…" Allen started.

"No, you wouldn't." Nora teased lightly.

Allen tried to justify himself. "It's for your own safety."

"I understand." Nora responded. "What's good here?"

"That was easy." Allen didn't mean to speak aloud.

Nora looked up from her menu, "Was it supposed to be difficult?"

"In my experience, most people want to know the details of soldier's life, and spy is even more interesting than soldier."

"I don't much care about your military history," Nora said, before wincing. "Sorry, that was indelicate, and not entirely true." She sighed and put down her menu.

"So, what is true, then?" Allen asked, more confused than anything.

"You're interesting."

"Like a science experiment?" Allen joked.

"More like a mystery T.V show." Nora tried to explain herself, "I've met a few like you, always keeping secrets, even from themselves."

"How can I keep a secret from myself?" Allen asked.

"My money is that you've told yourself quite a few things to keep yourself distant." Allen went quiet. He didn't have a response. "You're an compelling man, Allen, and pretty decent company." Allen was quiet for a little while longer before grabbing his menu and scanning it before. He was quickly scolded by a passing Uncle Derek.

"Put that down, boy, I know what yer gettin."

Allen put his menu down.

"I'm not a project." He said to Nora. "I don't need someone to fix me."

"I get that." Nora tried to reassure him, but Allen either didn't hear her or didn't care.

"I see my therapist, I take my antidepressants, I mourn, I try to move on. I'm a workaholic, but I manage. I don't need someone trying to fix me." He was building up steam, but he kept his hands beneath the table, and his tone at a reasonable level.

"I'm not trying to fix you, Allen." Nora responded, gently.

"Then what are trying to do?" Allen asked, his voice firm.

"I'm trying to date you." Nora answered with a grin. There was silence, and Allen started to laugh, quietly at first, but it turned into great big belly laughs.

"I can handle that." He said when he finally calmed down.

"I'm glad. Now, what's good here?" Nora asked once again, opening her menu for another look.

"The Waterfront salad is good for a vegetarian," Derek interrupted, zooming by the table.

"How did he know I was a vegetarian?" Nora asked, "I haven't even told you that."

"He's uncle Derek, he has a knack." Allen said simply, as if it answered everything. "So, you're vegetarian, huh?"

"Funny story about that actually."

The rest of the date proceeded as dates tended to go. Some light conversation, some heavy conversation, some good moments (mostly good moments), some awkward moments (caused by Uncle Derek). While Allen still didn't tell Nora anything about who he'd once been, or his time on deployment, he found that it didn't matter - because it truly did seem like Nora didn't care all that much about the things on which Allen, pointedly, refused to linger.

The next date was of Nora's choosing. It was a movie, followed by dinner. Unremarkable it most ways. Until the end, that is.

Allen was walking Nora home, and when they arrived at the massive apartment complex in which she lived, she had kissed him. A simple, quick peck as Allen had been backpedaling trying to explain, nicely, why he found the Grognak movie (which Nora loved) to be ridiculous.

"Sorry," Nora said with a smile, "You were just too damn cute."

"First time I've been called that." Allen responded in a daze. Finally shaking his head, he started talking again.

"Look, I get deployed tomorrow." He sighed and went on, "This time for a bit longer...and we really did just kind of meet, and I know this is asking a lot, but if I come back and you haven't…"Allen trailed off.

"Haven't what?" Nora prodded.

"You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?"

"Say what?" Nora asked coyly.

"Fine," Allen closed his eyes, "If I come back, and you haven't met 'the one' can we meet up again?"

Nora started her answer by giving Allen another kiss, this time a bit longer and with a bit more passion. It made his head swim.

"Does that answer your question?"

"What question?" Allen asked. He suddenly couldn't remember much.

"When you come back," Nora finally answered, wrapping her arms around Allen. "Look me up."

"I can do that." Allen replied, returning the embrace.

"That's an order, soldier boy."

"Yes ma'am."


End file.
